Wait For Me
by Blue Butterfly
Summary: A repost. I deleted it a while ago, so i added some stuff and improved it. It's in Ron's POV. R/Hr. It's been a while since i've written, so don't blame me!


Wait For Me  
A/N: I don't know why I wrote this, or how this idea came to my mind, but bear with me. PG for a few small words and slight mention of religion. Read it. It's in Ron POV but switches to third person somewhere nere the end. R/H fic without them being together. Get what I mean? Sorry if someone dies in this, I have an obsession with people dying. Kind of OOC. A bit unfinished.  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the lyrics to 'Wait For Me', a poorly written verse of a song by me.  
  
It was two and a half weeks before Christmas.  
She skipped into the Great Hall and slipped into the seat next to me. She was singing softly under her breath.   
Something's wrong. I had never seen Hermione skipping in my whole entire life. Nor singing. I tilted my head to her direction and muttered, "Why so happy?".  
She paused and looked at me with those luscious brown eyes. "Nothing special," she said simply in a light, savoir-faire, very un-Hermione-ish voice.   
Strange. I'd never heard Hermione speak like that. I simply dismissed it as a phase that sixteen year old girls go through. I had heard lots of girls talk that way, Lavender when she was (truly) in love, Ginny when she was in love...  
Hermione was simply in love, that's all.  
I almost choked on my pumpkin juice at that thought. Hermione in love?  
The realisation dawned on me that she had been acting this way for about a week. Visions flashed through my mind. Hermione twirling around with herself to some music that she had charmed up; Hermione skipping in the hallways from class to class...  
Hermione, Hermione. My dear, lovely, sweet Hermione. Who have you given your innocent heart to? How I wish it was me. I've loved you for so long, don't you ever notice?   
I absently rested my elbow and nearly knocked Harry's plate over. I felt a sharp jabbing in my side as he tried to pull me out of my Hermione thoughts.  
I politely excused myself from the table and ran up to the Gryffindor common room.   
It was empty when I got there. I walked over to the little table where Hermione had left her Music Glass. It was basically a charmed glass of water where songs could be recorded. The water in the glass, however, does not really seem like water. You could tip it upside down and not a single drop will spill out, and if you dip your finger into it you can feel the wetness but when you remove your finger it will not be wet.   
I muttered the spell to unleash the music. The water bubbled and a melody drifted out. I recognised it instantly. It was called 'Wait For Me'. I wrote it. I was about to throw it away because I thought it was trash but she snatched it up and begged me to give it to her. I, tired and grumpy, gave it to her.   
The song floated into my ears, its soft expression enchanting me. I could barely believe that I had actually written this masterpiece. I listened for a while, enjoying the sweet sounds of the violin...  
Wait a minute. Hermione definitely doesn't play the violin, and I don't remember her asking me to record a song for her. The only other violin player in Hogwarts was...   
Draco Malfoy.  
Oh. My. God.   
Malfoy?  
A/N: Maybe I should end it here, maybe I should not. But I'm sure you'd want to know Ron's reaction.  
Oh. My. God.   
Malfoy?  
Do some of you go to Christian churches? Do you see that big, crucifix? Imagine my cardiovascular muscle hanging there instead of Christ.  
It was so painful.   
Oh Hermione, why did you give yourself to this ugly, selfish Slytherin?  
Malfoy and Hermione could never be together. Unless... they really love each other. Then again, the vile rat might be using her to pass Transfigurations or something.  
  
A week later, as I was making my way to the Great Hall for breakfast, I heard someone sniffling. I peered around the corner. It was Hermione.  
She was sitting on the floor, her chin on her knees, one arm hugging her legs, and the other rubbing her nose. She was sniffling uncontrollably.  
I crouched down next to her. She didn't seem to notice my presence, so I tapped her gently on the arm. Her watery eyes looked up at me. They filled up with hope, then sadness and shame. I said, "Malfoy?"  
I think she tried to say something that sounded like "You know?" but it came out as a gurgle.   
"Yeah, I know. Now I'm going to get you some help. Was he the one who got you addicted?" I said.  
She did something that seemed like a shake and a nod. "H-he told m-me that-t pret-ty girls sh-should en-n-joy p-pretty th-things,"  
"And you listened to him?"  
She did that shake-nod thing again.   
"Can you get up, Hermione?"   
"I've been trying to but I can't"  
Whoa. She must have really got addicted to a lot of the stuff. And it was really strong. We're not talking the ordinary, muggle drugs. It was the powerful, You-Know-Who drugs. I was about to pick her up and send her to Madam Pomfrey when someone else appeared. It was Malfoy.  
Hermione, sensing his cold presence, looked up. Malfoy was standing about twenty yards away, his silver-blond hair glimmering in the dim lighting of the corridor.  
Then he said in a low, soft voice, "Come to me Hemione, I've got your medication..."  
Hermione made this gagging sound, leapt out of my arms and lunged towards the small packet of white powder he was holding up. Malfoy looked at me, and gave me a evil, dark smile; a smile of glory, a smile of triumph, a smile of power. I glanced at Hermione, but she wasn't looking at me.   
Malfoy, you monster. I loved... love that girl, and you turned her into a, a sniffling, powder-consuming monster. She had such a fine life ahead, and you ruined it.   
I ran wildly back to the noisy common room. Who cares if I starve without breakfast.  
  
Another week passed. Three days more to Christmas. I had barely seen Hermione.   
She walked right in humming my song, "Wait For Me". She noticed me and smiled. "Chess?"  
I stared at her strangely. She had never wanted to play chess with me before.   
Halfway through the game, I was winning and Hermione was sniffling. She said, "I need to go to the girls' room,".  
I just sat there and waited. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed. What could be taking her so long? I jumped as I heard some girls screaming outside. Hermione.  
I ran towards the door marked 'Witches", pushing the screaming girls out of the way.   
A figure lay in the shadows, barely alive. I ran towards it, and cradled Hermione in my arms. Tears streamed down my face.   
"Hermione, I love you,"  
"I love you too, Ron. I'm sorry." Her voice was barely a whisper, her fingers clutched my arm.  
She might have a chance, come on, Hermione. I began to despair as her grip on my arm loosened.  
"Never forget, Ron, I... love....you." With those words, her eyes became blank, her body became limp, and she was dead.  
  
I stared at the little parcel that came by owl post. It was from Hermione's parent's.   
Curious, I opened the letter that came along with it.   
Dear Ron,  
We just thought that Hermione would have wanted you to have this.  
Mr and Mrs Granger.   
I opened the parcel, to find a velevet box in it. I unlocked it, and found two things embedded in soft tissue paper. The first thing was a small bottle that seemed like a salt-shaker without the holes on top. It contained some powdery stuff, not drugs but some of Hermione's ashes that had not been scattered. The other thing was Hermione's Music Glass. I muttered the charm and the familiar melody tinkled out. I began to sing the words:  
Wait for me  
I would never hurt you  
Wait for me  
I love you, I really do.  
Wait for me..............   
That's right, Hermione, wait for me. I'll die someday, not now but someday.  
  
A/N: Oh, God, I'm crying. I don't think I've written a sad, soppy fic like this before. *sniff* Review!!!!  



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